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Listeners' Fantasies |
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Saturday Night At El Toro
by Minihohum
 Inspired by the emergency nacho Sunday lunch at the Bull, a bit of Carry On Up The Alamo, from the Fantasy Archers topic of .
The old saloon on the Tex-Mex-Ambridge border known as El Toro was quiet round about siesta time. The out-of-tune pianola played The Yellow Rose Of Texas, and Nic was behind the bar polishing her child tax credits when The Milkman With No Name tied up his mountain bike and came in thru the swing doors...
"Hey mister, you wanna drink?" Nic said, in a weedy little-girl voice.
"No I don't want anything alcoholic to drink, thank you, I just wondered if you wanted to sponsor me for the single wicket competition. I'm batting in aid of fallen badgers," he answered.
Immediately, Nic fell in love with him, but not before pressing the panic button under the bar so that Fallon was quickly summoned from her boudoir.
"Hey, Harry!" Fallon called, breathlessly, pushing out her bodice so far towards him that it started to rip provocatively, "I thought ya'd never get here! Quick! My computer table needs fixing! Jazzer put it together, but his puny smack-addict's hands were too weak to tighten the screws properly. We need a milkman around here! One who's all man and with plenty of milk."
"Don't worry, Fallon," Harry said, "I'm fully certified by the Soil Association. I'll have you back on the table in no time."
"Great. How about I fix us some nachos while you're doing that?"
"Fantastic, I'll just get my screwdriver."
Fallon turned to Nic as she disappeared back up to her boudoir, "Cancel the milk and bring the jalapenos up to the Family Room - I won't be back down for a while."
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